Deadly Game
by Unsent
Summary: Chapter 5 up [Auron x Seymour] Seymour tries to overcome his childhood fear of dark water. While doing so, he discovers something strange within its depths. [Status: Unfinished]
1. Beautiful Besaid

Deadly Game

by Maya Brisa

Chapter 1

Final Fantasy X, Auron, Seymour, Anima, Jyscal and Spira are all © Square Enix. Ideas and designs expressed in this story are all © Maya Brisa 2005

As most everyone in Spira knows, strange things are always known to happen at any given moment. This particular story is about a young man named Seymour who of all the people in Spira, is the most familiar with strange things.

It was noon. The sun was burning high in the cerulean sky making the shifting waters around sparkle and glisten. A young man at the brink of adulthood sat leaned against an arched palm tree reading a book. He licked his thumb and flipped over one of the its large pages. To anyone that would pass by and ask, he would reply without looking, "Chapter 17." and not another peep.

This young man was the bookworm of the community--ask anyone around and they'd tell you Seymour Guado. His favorite place to read was always out under this particular tree. It was close to the water, yet far enough for his comfort. Poor Seymour was deathly afraid of dark water. He didn't mind it where his home was. The waters were as clear as crystal near the shore. Perhaps that was another reason why he liked his spot.

Ever since he could remember, he'd always had a strong fear of dark water. Of course, every day folk would blame it on the fact that the lad just couldn't swim to save his life. "He sinks like a stone." His Grandfather used to say when he was just a boy. Seymour always disregarded everyone's comments he didn't care what they thought. For all they knew, maybe there was something in the water to be afraid of.

"Seymour!" A woman's voice called. Seagulls cried lightly as they flew over a small house situated not too far from the beach. It was Seymour's mother, Anima, she was standing in the doorway to the house with an apron around her hips, drying her hands. Lunch had been prepared and it was time to eat.

"Seymour Guado, you come this instant!" She called again in a musing fashion. She was never hard on her son, one could say she spoiled him every day. Anima looked young for her age, not a day over twenty-five. Which is odd, if one were to ask anyone that lived near by-- they could have sworn that little Seymour was going to make her grow gray before her time. He was quite the brat.

Anima loved her son so much, it didn't matter how rotten he was. Not that he had been a bad child, he was just so needy. Born the only half guado, half man to Spira, his life was bound to have its ups and downs. He hardly had any friends. Perhaps that is why Anima spoiled him so...

"Mom, you don't have to yell so loudly." Seymour smirked, walking up the stone path, book in hand. Anima smiled finally letting go of her apron, "Well, you get so into your books who knows if you can ever hear me or not?" she chuckled, lightly swatting his shoulder as he passed her following the smell of the food.

"What is it today.?" Seymour started, setting his book down on the countertop, his mother went to open her mouth, but he interjected, "Let me guess, steamed vegetables?" he finished, smiling sarcastically. Anima frowned and sat down at the table across from her son, fixing herself a plate of just what Seymour had "guessed".

"You know how your condition is, sweetie..." Anima began, giving her son a sympathetic look as she watched him make his own plate.

"Mom, it's fine. I know how it is... I just wished it wasn't." he said comfortingly. He knew how much his health condition worried her. "And I wished that you would eat something else. Why suffer with me?" he asked, stirring his food with a fork.

"I don't want you to feel alone... and I know it doesn't help you, but it gives me peace of mind. I never wanted you to suffer like this..." she said, placing her hands gently in her lap.

"It isn't so bad now. It's the thought that matters, Mom. Eat anything you want. I want you to be happy." he trailed off a moment, looking down at his glass of soy milk, "Besides, the defect gene didn't come from you." he said with a grin, "Father is to blame for that." his eyes sparked with an intense hatred, though he would never admit it.

"Seymour, that isn't very nice." his mother chided, folding her napkin around her fingers. Her mood was always uneasy when her son brought up his father. The two did not get along. Jyscal had been caught cheating on his wife a few years back--he used that as a ticket for freedom and issued a divorce. Anima was still worried about her son's medical condition and needed Jyscal's aid, so she "conveniently" continued to misplace the court papers.

Jyscal hadn't married Anima because he truly loved her. The two had met in college and hit it off right away. Jyscal was already trying to make political moves to gain the public--he was majoring in politics. Not too surprising for his classmates, but heart breaking for Anima when she found out she was pregnant and that she had merely been a ploy to gain points for Jyscal's class.

Anima's mother had passed away many years before, so she turned to the next woman she knew she could trust; Jyscal's mother. Furious, Anima spilled the whole thing to her and how scared she was for her unborn child. Jyscal's mother was enraged that her son would do such a low thing--When Jyscal returned home for that summer, his mother blessed him out and forced him to wed Anima in order ensure a healthy life for the child...

"I won't apologize, Mom. What he did was wrong... and you're all that I have." he paused, furrowing his brows, "I just wished that you would sign those papers..." Seymour replied, fidgeting his fork over an empty plate. Anima's face was one of pure shock, like her personal life had been invaded.

"How did you know about those?" She asked, surprise on her tongue.

"I live with you?" he replied, quirking an elegant brow. Anima groaned letting her forehead slide into her palm, "You know he's coming over tonight..."

"Oh, wonderful." he said in a monotone.

"I don't want you to have this sour attitude when he gets here... if it bothers you that much you know where you can go." she said, her voice a different tone now. It was serious and low as opposed to the rich, happy sound her voice had only an hour before.

"If it will make things easier for you, then I will go. I'd rather not cause any more grief than there has to be..." he trailed off, getting up from his chair. Anima folded her hands in her lap again pursing her lips as she watched her son clean up the table. She always grew weary when these sort of things happened--all she ever wanted to do was help to make Seymour's life as simple as possible.

Unfortunately, keeping that schmuck of a guado around was necessary for the time being, which is why Anima still refused to sign the papers. Jyscal was footing the bill for research on Seymour's condition...

The sun was setting on the peaceful scenery, turning the ground shades of orange and red. Besaid had always been a beautiful place to live. Anima had chosen this place because it was far from Guadosalam, and far enough from any dangerous cities. They would have still been living on Baaj Island, but Seymour had an accident there when he was five. That was twelve years ago... An undertow had caught hold of his little body and took him beneath the surface pulling him farther into the sea.

Anima had gotten up to go into the beach house for some more sandwiches--she heard her son scream once before she was running back down the rock ledge. When she finally reached the shore, little Seymour was cradled in the arms of another boy, unconscious. As soon as she'd seen the other boy, he was gone. Seymour remained floating on his back as Anima waded frantically into the water to fetch her son. She never spoke of the incident after that, mostly feeling regret for leaving her son alone in the first place. She blames herself to this day for his fear of water.

"There isn't anything that can be done with him, Anima. He's healthy enough, look at him." Jyscal rambled, snagging his cup of coffee from the table. Seymour was washing the dishes left over from their dinner. Anima and Jyscal had kept the conversation saturated, Seymour ate in silence.

"Yes, he looks healthy, but I need to know if he's going to be okay." Anima replied, giving her husband a pitiful look.

"He's still alive, isn't he?" Jyscal sneered, "If not for you, who knows?" he added looking bored as he sipped his coffee. Seymour cringed at those words and lost grip of a glass and it smashed on the floor. Jyscal craned his head, "Can you handle that, boy?" he asked, laughing rudely.

"Jyscal, please. Leave him be." Anima started, rubbing her forehead.

"What? He's my son too." he protested, setting his cup down. Seymour shut his eyes and bent down to pick up the broken pieces. He felt awkward to say the least, and hurt that his own mother would force him to endure such visits. He knew where he could escape to... but that meant facing those dark waters again. He finished cleaning up the pieces and discarded them in the trash.

"We raised a good son." Jyscal glared, trying his best to upset him.

"I'm not your son." Seymour said, anger seething in his pale indigo irises as he passed by Jyscal's chair and out of the kitchen. He'd gone to pack his things for the trip to Baaj Island.


	2. The Beach House

Deadly Game

By Maya Brisa

Chapter 2

The air always seemed a bit colder near Baaj Island. Which left fisherman with odd looks on their faces when they touched the water--it was always so warm as opposed to the bitter bite of the wind.

Seymour stood near the rear of the ship watching the water jet out from the kick of the machina beneath the water. His departure from Besaid hadn't been a very pleasant one. He felt a little guilty for leaving his mother the way he did. He barely cracked a smile when she leaned in to kiss his cheek goodbye.

Among the guilt, he could feel the tension rise from inside his chest as the waters began to get darker and darker--the ship was approaching the large Island. Seymour turned to face the hulking mass of land while small drops of rain began to drizzle from the overcast clouds above.

"We will be reaching the shore in ten minutes, Seymour." An attendant called from the cabin. Seymour smiled lightly and nodded as he took his hand off of the railing went to go inside. The trip had been a little exhausting, he didn't make the trip often, but when he did he was pretty drained by the time he arrived.

As said before, Seymour did have many fond memories of this place, but his fear was ever present every time he returned. As if there were a curse on the Island. The place was so far from civilization, no one ever wanted to live on the Island. The only known establishment was the beach house on the north shore.

It was a beautiful beach house too, though more of a three story loft. It was very spacious and well furnished. Seymour's favorite room was the kitchen area. It was cozy, and always had a comfortable setting. A large mahogany table stood against the wall on the north side, with large awning windows. One could enjoy breakfast and look down at the beach. Seymour liked it best at night with the heavy lantern--he would enjoy light fruits and read his favorite books while listening to the waves just outside. He loved it.

"Seymour? Seymour, we've docked." The attendant spoke, waving her hand in front of the guado's face.

"I'm sorry?" Seymour asked, shaking his head and looking at the girl with hazy eyes.

"Oh, um. We're at Baaj, it's okay to go now." she replied, showing him the door.

"Right. Forgive me, I was deep in thought." he smiled sheepishly, feeling like a fool.

"It's fine. Gippal and Naytu have already carried your luggage to the house."

"Thank you so much, Nhadala. I apologize for the short notice, I know you guys had other places to go to." Seymour said, giving her a thoughtful look.

"Seymour, it's alright. Besides, with the gil you pay us, it's always a pleasure." she chuckled stepping outside.

The attendant was named Nhadala. She was an Al Bhed. Her and the crew she worked with used to excavate parts on an desert Island called Bikanel, but the sand storms became too frequent for any good work to be completed, so she took up her father's job and started an ocean-wide excavation rig. Seymour found her and Rin when he'd vacationed on Baaj a few years back. Baaj Island was always on their route, so Seymour would always pay them extra to take him to and from Besaid.

"Give us a call when you're ready to go home to mamma!" Nhadala mused, waving at Seymour.

"Two weeks, Al Bhed!" Seymour yelled, waving in return as the ship started to back away from the dock.

"Sure thing, Guado!" she smiled, shaking her head before disappearing into the cabin. It had been rumored that Nhadala had a tiny crush on Seymour, but it was never verified--mostly because Gippal, her "second mate" had started the whole thing. What better did Al Bhed pirates have to do?

Seymour sighed and looked around for a moment. He took a deep breath as he eased himself away from the dock. He'd planned to stay for two weeks. One week would have sufficed, but he wanted some time to be alone and be as far away from Jyscal as he could possibly get; Baaj was just far enough.

He could stand the loneliness for now. Other than his grandfather and mother, that's all he'd known all of his life. He was painfully adjusted to it. Now it was just him, the beach house, and this large Island out in the middle of nowhere. With diligent steps he made his way around a path and walked up along the ridge that would lead him to the beach house.

When he reached the top he found his bags in a neat pile with a folded piece of paper under one of the straps. He quirked a brow and stooped down to open it up.

Hey, Seymour

I hope your mom is okay. Keep your chin up, it won't rain all the time, you know!

Nhadala

He laughed when he looked at the bottom of the paper; a little smiley face was drawn alongside some Al Bhed gibberish. Seymour shook his head and pocketed the paper. Lifting his bags he ambled for the patio door and unlocked it. Sure, it was a little silly to lock the place up, considering how much traffic Baaj actually received. But, always 'better safe than sorry'.

The beach house was dark when he walked in and smelled of salt water. It had been a few months since the place had been touched. His first chore would be to tidy the place up a bit. Storms had a tendency to riddle the wood up some. Salt water had its tricks too when the waves really began to dance from high winds.

He crossed the patio area and into the kitchen. Tossing his keys onto the countertop, he dumped his bags on the floor beside the doorway. Seymour was known to be a neat freak when it came down to it.

"I think I have some cleaning to do." He said aloud, nodding his head to confirm it. With that, he was rummaging through the cupboards under the sink pulling out cleaners and sponges.

Anima could have labeled a neat freak too. She had a sponge of every color of the rainbow beneath that sink. It was quite a sight. perhaps she rubbed off on her son. In one hand he had dusting solution, the other a damp cloth--in a matter of minutes he was attacking that mahogany table like it was no one's business, getting every corner to emanate with a lemony fresh scent.

Once finished, he tossed the cloth into the sink and moved over to open the awnings. He figured the kitchen needed some fresh air. He was propped on his knees in the chair looking out onto the sea. He reached up to flip the lock when his eyes caught site of something strange.

He automatically passed it off as his reflection in the window. He narrowed his eyes as he lifted the window open and propped it. He blinked a few times as he tried to refocus.

"What on Spira?" he asked himself, leaning out. What he had seen was a seagull swooping close to the water's surface, and all at once it disappeared into a tuft of scattering feathers--as if into thin air. it was gone.

"It's... gone." Seymour whispered. It was simply chance. There were many fiends in the water, many sea creatures that enjoyed a bird or two... but Seymour had never actually seen one just disappear like that.

"Odd..." he murmured, shaking his head as he moved to the other side of the table to open the second window. He thought nothing more on it and eventually returned to cleaning.


	3. Not Alone

Deadly Game

by Maya Brisa

Chapter 3

Dusk. The point where Baaj Island was at its most beautiful. If the day had been overcast, the sun could finally escape the clouds and shine a honey orange color onto the west sides. The waters shifted with sparkling dots of yellow and shimmering whites as far as the eye could see, all at once being swallowed into the horizon. The sunset was a thing of pure beauty on Baaj.

The young guado sat in the kitchen with the lantern on, trying to finish up the book he'd been reading in Besaid. He didn't have a bowl of fruit, but instead a hot cup of tea that sat on the table. The awnings were closed now, the cold air was coming in from the north and quite a bother when Seymour was trying to read.

He was on the last page and read it intently as he reached for his cup of tea. He sipped in a mouthful and swallowed, nodding his head as he read the last line.

"Good book." he chirped, smiling and setting his cup down as he flipped the book shut. He set it down beside the cup and leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms behind his head. He looked out the window for a moment, reveling in the pretty scenery outside.

His eyes trailed over the spot where he'd seen that seagull disappear. He licked the roof of his mouth a few times with a grimace before getting up from his seat, it was late and the poor thing had been cleaning all day. It was time to rest.

Everything was dusted, arranged and shining like justice. The smell of the place was very comforting--the kind of smell that a cabin would put off; musky scents and fine wood. The kitchen, of course, reeked of lemony joy, but that's just because it was Seymour's favorite room, he made sure it was squeaky clean.

His bedroom was on the third floor. He liked his room almost as much as he liked the kitchen, but it was too far from the ground for his tastes. He enjoyed the sound of the waves and couldn't hear them as well way up there.

With his usual diligent steps he went up the staircases, gliding his hand over the smooth finish of the railings. He whistled a melody that had no name or origin. His mother used to hum it to him when he was little. That might have been why he liked to whistle it so much. It was a nice tune. Seymour entered his bedroom, there was nothing special about the bedroom, just an antique feel to it. Blue bedding on oak, and a fluffy pillow sat right beside a bay window that overlooked the same beach.

He stopped whistling when he walked further in turning on the light. He'd forgotten to clean this part of the house. He shook his head and stepped over to the closet. He had some clothes from the last stay still there. He flipped through until he found a pair of night pants. Ambling to his bed, he tossed them down and soon followed with them, letting his body crumple from mild fatigue.

As if he were getting ready for school and didn't want to go, he sluggishly removed his clothing. His wardrobe was nothing short of elegant; always a pair of neatly ironed slacks accompanied with a robe-like shirt with belled sleeves. His favorite color was violet, so he never strayed too far, often settling with variations of the shade.

Pretty soon, his clothes were in a folded pile inside a hamper and he in his pants. Night time was always the loneliest part of the day. So quiet, not a sound but the waves crashing on rocks over the other distant parts of the Island. Sometimes it was hard for him to sleep, he would start to think about his mother... and eventually of his father. That never settled well and call for a restless sleep.

With a long sigh he climbed onto his bed and slid to the window. He unlocked it and pushed the windows open taking in a deep breath of the fresh breeze that swept in. He smiled a little, remembering the times when he was little, when Anima would scold him for even thinking about sitting inside the window. He could have sat inside it comfortably then, he was much too big to fit now. He laughed a little as sat down and leaned against the frame, staring out onto the water.

He sighed again, closing his eyes. As if his someone was interrupting a dream, his brows furrowed to an odd sound. Soft at first, like a baby's murmur, then louder and louder it grew--almost like it was inside Seymour's ears. His eyes opened slowly, staring at one of the open windows... He blinked, his lids heavy from being tired. Soon, the cry turned into a melody. A song, and it was intoxicating.

Seymour's lips parted as he leaned into the bay window and looked down at the beach. Was it a bird? It couldn't have been, most of the birds that inhabited the Island were sound asleep by that hour. The cry was more like a whale's and echoing in gentle frequencies. All of Seymour's cares seemed to flow right out of the window with that song that sounded like it was coming right off the water.

The guado took in a breath through his nostrils as his head tipped back, letting the cool breeze graze over his throat. The song was beautiful. Perfection with every ring. It was so beautiful that Seymour didn't know what he was hearing anymore, and soon, he was fast asleep on his bed. Perhaps a family of whales had passed by and with them, brought a song. A song that aided the weary.

Only the dawn would tell.

The sun sparkled and peeked over the horizon blanketing the sleeping Island in warmth. A seagull squealed rather loudly as it flew passed Seymour's window--Unfortunately for the seagull... it slapped the other window and fell down to the sandy surface below. Seymour sat up in his bed, wide eyed and staring out the window. He leaned further into the bay, fitting his torso in just fine to peer below.

"Oh, goodness..." he mumbled, looking worried as he saw the seagull sitting below. One of its wings was stretched out like it was babying a sprain. Seymour rubbed his forehead a moment trying to think of what to do next. And then, it was decided... slipping out of the pants and into his clothing, he left his bedroom to go downstairs to try and help the bird.

Sometimes Seymour would get a little irritated at distractions. It was time for him to get up, but now would have been the time he went downstairs to make breakfast... not try to be a hero to some mite infested critter. His footsteps were a little heavier this time on his way down. Seymour was hungry, and thus came the grumpiness.

Reaching the patio, he flung the door open and stepped outside. In order to get to where the bird was, he would have to go around that large ridge of rocks, which was a pain in the ass--at least now it was, because his conscience was pricking him. About fifteen minutes later the sandy beach met his bare feet. That was enough to place him a better mood. He loved the way it felt.

"Stupid seagull..." he muttered to himself, "Making me miss breakfast..." he finished kicking up some sand. What a way to start the day. Seymour kept his eyes down to the sand, making sure he didn't step on anything unpleasant as he made his way around another set of large rocks. These rocks were basically the foundation holding the beach house up.

His eyes gradually began to scan for the white bird, looking up to make sure he was near the area by checking for his window. Sure enough, there it was, preening the bum wing.

"There you are." he said, slowly walking up to it. The bird was making small, rapid whistle noises as if it were scared.

"It's okay. I'm not going to hurt you." he spoke, as if words were going to help. He noticed that the bird was panting heavily with every whistle and backing away with tiny, clumsy steps.

"That fall must have really freaked you out..." Seymour said, crouching down on his knees to extend his hands. He was right in front of the bird. He stared at it, noticing that the bird wasn't even looking at him, but beyond him. Rather than banking on the possibility of something else being behind him, he continued to reach for the bird.

"You're okay." He murmured, making the attempt to catch it. The wing was starting to close in. The whistle became more labored as the birds head began to bobble. If the damned thing could sweat, it would have been--bullets. Before Seymour could even lay a fingertip on the critter, it cried loudly and took flight, using Seymour's head as leverage.

"God?" Seymour yelled out, throwing his hands up to swat the bird. He missed as the seagull was already in the air. Seymour spun on his heels and fell backward. His head met a wall of stone and his body slumped down against it as he fought to keep his eyes open... he saw someone crawling toward him.

"Who's...?" he murmured out, trailing off. His eye lids grew heavy as the pain from the injury set in, making his senses go berserk. He leaned his head back, looking through blurred irises.

"Don't come any closer..." Seymour feebly whined, seeing watery blotches of reds and browns before going unconscious.


	4. Real Dream

Deadly Game

by Maya Brisa

Chapter 4: Real Dream

"Mother, watch me dive!" little Seymour called, floating about 10 feet in the water. He kicked his small legs as he readied himself for the deep blue.

"Seymour, be careful. I don't want you hurting yourself." Anima chided gently. She was sitting on a small blanket with a picnic basket.

"I'll be okay!" Seymour yelled giggling before taking a giant gulp of air and plunging down into the water. Anima watched intently, not of interest, but of concern. Minutes and minutes passed and Anima didn't see her son surface... Little did she know, her son had come up on the other side of a rock pass and was already crawling across the sand to get behind her.

"Seymour!" she called, worry in her voice, "Seymour?" Anima stood up and stepped off of the blanket, making a move to approach the water. Seymour was crouched down and sneaking up on her fast.

"Rar!" he yelled, wrapping his little arms around his mother's waist. Anima's shoulders jumped as she turned on one heel to look down at her son.

"Seymour Guado, you scared me!" She scolded him, looking very serious. With a swift and stern motion she unlatched her son and squatted down to face him, holding his shoulders.

"Don't you ever do that again, young man." she sobbed a little, "You nearly frightened the life out of me." Seymour's face was turning pink as large tears began to well up in his eyes and that plump lower lip started to tremble.

"Mamma..." he whimpered, clumsily rubbing his fist over his eye. Anima softened up real fast as she gathered her child into her arms, squeezing him tightly. She let him go after a moment and wiped his tears, "Honey, don't do that again, okay?" she said in her normal, sweet voice.

"Okay." he choked between a hiccup still rubbing his eye.

"Do you want another sandwich?" she asked, nodding for him. He nodded too.

"I have to go up and make some more. Sit down on the blanket here and drink your juice." she said, patting his head and guiding him to the blanket. He sniffled loudly as he plopped down on the soft fabric.

"I'll be right back, dear." she reassured him walking toward the rock ridge.

Seymour sat blowing bubbles through the straw as his bright eyes playfully scanned over the water. He knew his mother would return so he had no shred of worry. Lost in his bubble sounds he went cross-eyed, trying to stare down at the straw. He continued to do so until he heard a faint cry. His pale indigo irises darted up at the water, focusing.

"Hello?" he called staring at the surface. The cry sounded again; almost sad. Seymour set his juice box down and stood up to amble away from the blanket. The cry made him forget anything his mother had said to him not ten minutes before.

"Hello?" he called again, his little feet at the water's edge. He dared to take a step in with little to no fear. Moments later he saw someone in the water. Smiling widely he trudged into the waves wagging a chubby hand in the air.

"Hello!" he chirped swimming toward what he thought he saw. It wasn't long before Seymour's feet were no where near ground... Pretty soon he could barely keep his head above the water, his own weight tiring his arms. He yelled out as he watched the person he saw disappear. Fear struck every nerve in his body as he strained to choke for air as an undertow caught hold.

"Mother?" Seymour screamed before going under completely...

"Help?" Seymour yelled sitting up swiftly. He panted heavily as he looked around realizing he was still on the beach and not 5 years-old.

"It was... a dream...?" he asked aloud, running his hand over his head, "It seemed so real..." he trailed off staring at the water. He couldn't remember that far back so it was amazing that his dream was so crystal clear. Of course he was unaware of this. He shook his head and stood up placing his hands on his hips.

"What was I doing...?" he asked himself, focusing on the sand. He furrowed his brows while he thought on it.

He tapped his lips a second, "I came out here for something..." he paused, "That seagull!" he exclaimed turning around, "No... it flew off... it hit me... I..." his eyes went to the wall, "I hit my head..." he mumbled touching the back of his skull. To his surprise, there was nothing there. Not a bump, not a scratch, not even so much as a trace of pain.

"What... happened...?" he spoke, quite perplexed about the whole situation. He tongued his cheek before looking down at his shirt. It was soaked in the front and so were parts of his pants. His hands fumbled clumsily over the damp fabric, each finger questioning the fiber.

"How in Spira did I get wet...?" He was completely vexed. He'd been laying in the same place for what seemed like hours, never once going to the water--How was it that he became wet? Out of the silence and soft crashes of waves, his stomach made itself heard.

"I guess I should go eat..." he said, biting into his lip. He scanned the ocean once more, then the sand around; Nothing. With a sigh he ambled his way back to the beach house.

"I don't know, Mom. I think someone else is on this Island too." Seymour said into the sphere. Anima was sitting in her kitchen in Besaid.

"Maybe there is someone else living on the other side. It's a large place, you never know." She assured her son, smiling as she sipped her tea. Seymour had a cup as well, but he wasn't really paying any attention to it.

"I hit my head pretty hard, but I'm perfectly fine. I guess it's just a little weird. I know I saw someone... at least I think I did."

"Well, when you get the chance, have your Al Bhed friends take you around the Island and see. You should thank whomever it was, they saved my baby after all." she chirped, sipping her tea again.

"I suppose..." he started, picking up his own cup of tea, "So... how have things been. I know it's only been a few days..."

"Just fine, dear. Don't worry. You can come home when you want. I think the break is doing you some good." Anima smiled, tapping the sphere, "You stay as long as you like."

"Thanks, Mom. Mm, I had a dream while I was out." he began, rimming his tea cup with his finger.

"You did? What about?" she asked, interested as always.

"I was five years-old and I was swimming while you watched over me on the beach here at Baaj. It seemed more than a dream--I remember the picnic... but after that it's very fuzzy--I guess it wasn't a dream." he muttered. There was a long and thick silence. Seymour watched as his mother's face became plain; her lips a thin line.

"I have to go, Seymour..." Anima said solemnly reaching her hand over to press her fingers onto the sphere's tab.

"Mom? What's wrong?" he asked quickly leaning toward the sphere.

"I don't expect you to understand... I'll see you soon, sweetie. Love you." And with that... the sphere conversation was terminated.

"Mom...?" Seymour echoed, staring at the empty static. He punched her number in again... the sphere only gliched--Anima had turned it off completely. Seymour shook his head and sighed heavily, getting up from his seat at the dinner table. Right now, the kitchen was his least favorite room.

"What did I say wrong?" He asked himself going up to his room. Breakfast had been short and sweet, but now his stomach was sour with what his mother had said. He didn't feel up to reading or walking on the beach. The sky was overcast and feeding his melancholy. Napping sounded like his best bet, and so he did.


	5. The Lure

Chapter 5: The Lure

by Maya Brisa

It was late in the afternoon when Seymour lifted his head from his pillow. The clouds had moved on, leaving patches of fluff here and there. Covering his mouth for a yawn he sat up in his bed peeking through the bay window. He was happy to see that the clouds had mostly gone away, but his mother's words still lingered in his memory.

How could he try to forget? He still didn't feel like doing anything, and his stomach was just as upset as it had been before he'd fallen asleep. He was just about to throw himself back down on his bed when he heard a familiar sound. Not a seagull, but that sweet cry that had put him to sleep the other night.

He leaned into the bay window and peered down to see if he could spot a whale of some sort. Nothing.

"Where is that coming from...?" he asked aloud, looking all over the surrounding area. Without a moment's delay, he hopped up from his bed and this time placed some shoes on his feet before leaving the room.

With haste he padded down the stairs, the curiosity rising from his very bones as the sound grew louder and more enticing. He didn't even bother shutting the door he was so entranced. The cry was more slow and beckoning in a sense, creating a tingling sensation over Seymour's skin rather than putting him to sleep.

His legs gave out for a moment as he descended the ridge; the sand seeming to swallow his feet. Rounding the large wall he looked out onto the water as he stepped into the clearing. Out on the water he could see a young man floating with the waves--the eyes already focused upon Seymour's figure.

"Who...?" Seymour murmured, crossing the beech. He was hesitant to call out to the man, feeling awkward with the whole situation. He licked his lips and peered closely at the face. The young man was pretty far out in the water, but close enough for Seymour to see him relatively clearly. Seymour narrowed his eyes a moment as he studied him carefully.

There appeared to be pretty lengthy ears protruding... a stranded Guado perhaps? With that thought, Seymour took a step closer.

"Do you need some help?" Help he asked? He was afraid of the water. Noting that, he mentally scolded himself, lightly swatting his forehead. Regardless of how stupid he may have sounded, he received no reply.

"Um... can you hear me?" Seymour called, waving an uneasy hand through the air. He watched the man's face bow down, and his eyes close. Within a moment the cry was swirling around Seymour's ears again, and tickling his most private senses. With a thud his rump was in the sand and he found himself panting, staring through half lidded eyes at the water.

The cry continued, but Seymour couldn't see the man anymore... The waters were empty as if he'd never been there. That was, until Seymour saw a head, and then a torso surface near the shore. The face was very handsome at that distance, and now Seymour could discern long, dark-brown hair cascading in tangles over tanned shoulders. From what Seymour could see, this man was naked, and most certainly not a Guado.

"What... are you?" Seymour asked, his tongue having some difficulties forming the words. He saw from the sides of the man's head, two long ears that appeared to be fins of some sort... they were a brilliant deep shade of red. And from around the neck, he saw a very thin rope attached to a flat round stone. Seymour's face was flushing as he stared at the creature. Inside he was afraid, but the sweet song wouldn't let him act on it.

It was obvious that if the creature had come out of the water, Seymour would have gotten up in a flash and ran away. But the man remained half in with the tide hugging at his hips. He sat propped on his hands, peering at Seymour with strange eyes. Seymour's thirsty eyes couldn't help but trail down the man's visible areas and drink in the view. In his perverted escapade he saw three slits beneath the man's pectorals, three slits that seemed to pulse open and close as he breathed. A fish?

Seymour sat himself upon his knees, trying his best not to make any sudden movements. He was very aware that this man was not all human, and not of any other known race in Spira for that matter. The creature tilted his head to the side a little, almost giving the guado a playful look as he backed himself into the water.

"What are you...? Seymour asked again with a little more grace. The song was slowly ebbing away. Once again, Seymour received no reply... he was growing impatient. Could the thing speak?

"Can you not speak?" Seymour grumbled as the last notes of the cry subsided. The man smiled widely as he backed in further.

"Wait! Where are you going?" he asked, quickly lifting a hand. He was utterly fascinated. A hybrid Guado maybe? Perhaps. It was safe for Seymour to assume that this had been the person that helped his head injury earlier, and that they probably lived somewhere on the Island.

Within minutes, the creature was back in the deeper parts of the water, staring fixedly at the boy. Seymour's mouth remained agape as he watched the creature float out in the water. Within a blink of his eyes, the creature was gone. The half guado remained sitting on the beech, slouched in wonderment as he stared at the ocean...


End file.
